


November 2010 :: North Atlantic Triangle

by schwertlilie



Series: White Flags [24]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Food solves problems too, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 20:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwertlilie/pseuds/schwertlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred's angry at Arthur, Arthur's angry at Alfred, and Matthew's left in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	November 2010 :: North Atlantic Triangle

**Author's Note:**

> Doctor Who fans, note the year - Amy was just starting as companion in 2010.

_November 2010 :: New York, New York :: day two of a three-day NATO meeting_

Matthew looked helplessly between his brother-lover and his erstwhile father figure slash older brother as they descended into another round of fighting.

It was going to be a long night.

 

"Argh! God, Matt, how have you put up with him all these years?"

Matthew set down the bags of MacDonald's food. "Mostly by staying out of his way."

"Right. Passive aggressive colony. Gotcha." Alfred fell back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling. "Why does he always have to pull my ideas apart, huh? Sometimes weird stuff has to happen before genius erupts – remember that story about Einstein dreaming that he was riding on a rainbow?"

"Mm-hm." He sat at the desk, and pulled out his chicken burger. "Maybe Arthur doesn't realise he's doing it."

"Nah, he totally does. Asshole just can't stand to see me win. 'Wasn't it enough for you to win your little rebellion and save us from the Nazis, old chap?'" he said in a horrible imitation of Arthur's accent. "'Now's the time to let the big boys play, so why don't you scurry off like a good child, yes?'"

"If that was the case," he said between mouthfuls, "then why does he remember you but not me? If you weren't worth talking to, he'd forget about you."

"Wait- Matt, this isn't about you."

"Never is."

"... You're an ass."

"Yeah. But," he pointed at his brother with a french fry, "just because he's a patronising asshole doesn't mean he's trying to talk down to you, or shove you off to the side."

"That's kid of the _definition_ of patronising."

"Want to know what I think?"

"Wouldn't have let you in here if I didn't."

"Might've if you just wanted food." He waved the french fry around some more. "I think he's just scared. He was an empire, but the world order you and China and India are building doesn't have room for him. So he takes it out on everyone around him."

"You don't get any of it."

"If he's expecting to see you, he expects me to be you. He never mistakes us when I'm at Commonwealth meeting, or when he crashes La Francophonie meetings, but...." He took another bite of his chicken burger. 

"If you say so." And if he didn't look like he agreed, at least he didn't look like he wanted to yell at Arthur anymore, either.

 

Matthew knocked on Arthur's door. "Arthur? It's Matthew."

A muttered curse, shuffling, then the door opened. "Wassat?"

Matthew blinked at him. Arthur looked terrible, like he'd just rolled out of bed despite it being eight in the evening "I didn't see you at dinner, so I brought up some takeaway." He held the bags out in front of him, like a shield. 

"Hmph. Good to know that you still have manners, that you're considerate. Unlike another former colony we know." He took the bags, hesitated. "Would you, ah, would you like to come in?"

"If it's not a bother."

"You're never a bother, Matthew. Well," he said with a grin, "sometimes."

"Like when I'm rebelling?"

"When you're obeying the letter but not the spirit of your instructions. Oh, curry." He set the bags on the bed, and Matthew closed the door behind himself. "Would you like some? You brought an awful lot."

"If you don't mind. If you'd rather be alone, I can take mine back to my-"

"Nonsense." He pulled the styrofoam boxes from the bags, waved Matthew over. "Come, have a seat."

They both sat cross-legged on the bed, dinners in their laps. Arthur ate his with the determination of a man either hungry or avoiding a topic or both; Matthew could be patient, wait him out, especially when there was still food to eat. 

Finally, when Arthur's rice was half done, he sighed, set his fork down. "How do you put up with your brother, day after day? Doesn't his inanity drive you 'round the bend?"

Matthew swallowed his mouthful. "Not really." He put his pork down. "He tries hard around you, and he doesn't always know when to stop."

"Why would he be trying _anything_ around _me_?"

"Because you're still his big brother." Matthew took a sip of his pop, something green-flavoured. "He wants you to be proud of him, even if it would kill him to admit it."

He stared at his vindaloo like it contained the mysteries of the universe. "It would kill him to admit a number of things."

Matthew thought pot, kettle. "Are you looking forward to the Christmas special?" he asked instead, changing the subject.

"Wot?"

"Doctor Who."

"Oh!" He smiled, in a way his colonies rarely saw directed at them. At _anyone_ , actually. "I am, rather. Would you like to come over to see it this year?"

If Arthur remembered, yes. Matthew just smiled, and started a discussion on how Amy was faring as the new companion.


End file.
